Ethics
by TheLetterQ
Summary: Storm continues Xavier's lesson on Ethics. . .


**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own X-Men. I didn't much care for X3: Last Stand. But unfortunately, it got my X-Men OC thinking...

**Author's Note: **This fic has major spoilers for X3, don't say I didn't warn you. This is your warning. If the XMenSues LJ finds me, I shall laugh, and enjoy the wank. Hi X-Men Sues!

**Ethics**  
_An X-Men fanfic by Q_

Ehren Manus sat near the back in a comfortable wooden chair, back to the window and eyes to the back of a young woman's head. He knew her name to be Kitty.

Some students trickled into the spacious den which served as a classroom, but many were absent, still grieving the loss of their mentors; still grieving Xavier.

Ehren too, grieved, but he knew that loss was part of life, part of being an X-Man. So much was lost in this 'last stand': Allies, friends powers, families. Things were irrevertably different.

And the changes were no more as glaring as when Ororo Munroe entered the classroom, the new Headmistress of Xavier's School for the Gifted. She sat in a plush, leather smoking-chair, crossing one pressed slacked leg over the other, before reaching to flick on the wall monitor.

The monitor flickered to life with a near inaudible whirr, darkness brightening to reveal a man on a hospital bed in the medical lab of the School. Some students shifted uncomfortably, some murmured. The one who called herself Jubilee just gathered her things and quietly left, whispering an apology to Ororo. She was taking the Professor's death harder then most, and was now frequently excused from class.

A man lying prostate on a cool bed may not seem to trigger memories of loss and remorse in the average person; yet the average outside person would not know that this was a review of the final lesson Professor Charles Xavier taught this particular class.

Ms. Munroe, called Storm by some of the students, placed her hands on her lap with a quiet clap of flesh hitting breathable cotton, her striking eyes settleing on the young faces before her.

"I know this might bring up uncomfortable feelings, but we must press on with our lessons."

An agreeable silence followed.

"Now, this man is completely brain dead." Continued Storm, giving a light gesture to the monitor at her right. "Would it be ethical to place another mind inside the body?"

"Depends," Ehren piped up from the back of the room, a pencil dangling listlessly through his absurdly long fingers. "does his drivers licence have a little heart icon on it?"

A quiet roll of laughter flowed through the room from the other students, and Ehren smiled, contributing his own soft chuckles to the pleasant cacophony, pale eyes glancing at his classmates before they returned to Ms. Munroe.

"No, I'm serious." The young man continued, shifting so that he was hunching forward in his seat. "I mean, what makes the entire body different from any other harvistable organ? If the guy's an organ donor, I don't see the problem. Some guy like this could really have helped, say, the Professor get a new lease on life."

"A very good point, Ehren." Storm gave a nod.

"But-!" Ehren suddenly continued. "If it becomes acceptable to 'harvest' brain-dead bodies, then you get the problem of supply versus demand. Why should someone who might be in a situation like the Professor was get this guy's body. You could help one guy walk, or just cannibalize Mister MacGuffin here. You could transplant his skin to a burn victim, his heart to another needy person, a kidneys, livers, eyes. This is all off the top of my head. We could help one poor bastard that can't walk, or five people."

"The needs of the many." Added another student.

"Exactly." Ehren agreed.

"But wouldn't it just depend on who was next on the organ donor's waiting list?" Someone chimed in.

"There's no 'consciousness' on the list." Informed another student, with a glaze of irritation at the question in his voice. "And It's first come first serve."

Ehren hid a smirk, stealing a glance at Storm. He noted that in the last few years, she had changed, and he didn't much like what she had become. She was no teacher. That, and her haircut made her look like an Eskimo wearing a parka designed for a Revlon commercial. He enjoyed reaming her class from time to time. And sometimes, if he was lucky, the class would ream along. He just had to lead them, and that's what Ehren aspired to be: A future X-Men Field Leader.

"Ms. Munroe?" Chirped up Ehren's close friend Jayne Doe in her genderless voice. "If mutants were organ donors, what would happen if someone got Mr. Summers' eyes? Would they get optic blasts too?"

Sometimes, it was just too easy.


End file.
